


I didn't intend for this to happen but here we are

by gipnib



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Cisco Ramon Needs A Hug, Cisco Ramon-centric, Cisco needs to prioritize himself, DCCW Rarepair Swap, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Scars, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unresolved Romantic Tension, bless these emotionally stunted men, it's mostly harry but uhh cisco manages a bit of it too, this was only supposed to be 2k words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 23:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15129764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gipnib/pseuds/gipnib
Summary: Cisco Ramon thought that he'd never have a soulmate... until Harry Wells came through the breach.





	I didn't intend for this to happen but here we are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reeby10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeby10/gifts).



> This fic was made for the 2018 DC CW Rarepair Swap. Thanks to the mods for organizing everything, and thank you everyone for contributing! I had a great time writing this for reeby10 - hope you like it! Prompt: “Cisco thought he'd never find his soulmate... until Harry came through the breach.”

Everyone that Cisco knew had a soulmark. Caitlin and Ronnie had had purple fingernails. Barry and Iris had red freckles on their shoulders. His brother had maroon eyebrows. His parents had forest green hatching on the skin of their calves. Joe had actual _feathers_ growing on the backs of his hands. And every single one of his friends had told him about theirs at some point or another. He'd gotten used to seeing glimpses of strangers' marks too. So yeah, in summary, everyone that Cisco knew had soulmarks.

But here Cisco was with a soldering iron in one hand and a helmet comm device in the other, working in S.T.A.R. Labs at 11 PM on a Saturday, not a soulmark to be found anywhere on his body. Not a single. fucking. soulmark.

Inhaling deeply, he set down the soldering iron and pushed back his wheeled chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He had to take a deep breath. He didn’t normally think about any of this shit and for good reason. Positivity. Self-care. Neither of those really included these thoughts.

When he was younger, he’d held out hope. Maybe his soulmark would develop after all. Maybe he’d wake up one day and his hair would look like it had been carefully dyed to resemble a nebula or some shit, and he’d smile, knowing that there was someone out there with the same hair as him. Maybe he’d find himself with a colorful tongue. Or patterned skin. Or a third, neon, eye, like that bistro worker he kept seeing in the place down the street from his apartment building. He used to spend hours just imagining what sort of soulmark he’d have one day, and would paint ideas for them onto his skin with the paints they were made to use in his high school art class. He’d decided in his sophomore year of high school that he liked the way that dusty red looked against his skin best, but he was also fond of the orange.

Caitlin was somewhat responsible for the bit of optimism that had kept him hoping in more recent years. Pre-particle-accelerator-incident, they’d liked to hold conversations permeating the early hours of mornings, discussing whatever they could think of. When Cisco had told her that he had no mark, she’d smiled and taken his hand, squeezing it gently as she suggested to him that maybe he just wasn’t ready to meet his soulmate yet. That it would only be a matter of time until his soulmark showed up. After all, the “grand plan” had always led one soulmate to another; why should that change now? Cisco didn’t put much stock in grand plans, but, all things considered, this one seemed pretty damn reliable. And so he’d trusted in the plan for a long time, hopeful that things would sort themselves out.

But that optimism had faded from Cisco’s life. To be flowery about it, doubt had planted its seed in his mind long ago and the plant that had sprouted from that seed was flourishing. Now, it wasn't a matter of one day having one, it was a matter of coping with never having one. It shouldn't affect him so much, Cisco knew that. But it did! To be frank, at this point, he wouldn’t even mind his penis turning a fluorescent pink or a ton of neon green hair growth on his palms. Oh, the sacrifices he’d make for a soulmark.

“Ah, fuck this,” he said out loud, addressing the glowing tip of his 80W soldering iron. He got up from his chair abruptly and tugged the soldering iron plug out of the outlet by the cord. Yawning, he trudged over to check the monitor by the central desk. No alerts. Rude. Cisco wanted something to distract him. Why couldn’t some heretofore undiscovered meta just rob a bank?! Or why couldn't somebody trusted reveal that they were evil and that their nefarious plot would keep Cisco occupied until he fainted from sleep-deprivation or something like that? Truly inconsiderate. He sighed and turned away from the monitor, walking towards the hallway. When in need of a healthy distraction, Caitlin was a good option, and he had a good idea of where she might be.

His figure cast stretched shadows on the white hallway walls as he walked past the baseboard lights, hands shoved into his pockets as he made his way to the med center. Caitlin often lingered there if she didn’t feel like sleeping and, with what had recently happened to Ronnie, Cisco doubted that Caitlin would feel like sleeping for a while yet. He could talk to her some more, maybe help her out, and she could distract him: pro bono. Hell, even if talking wouldn’t help him out that much, he’d do it. After what had happened to Ronnie, she’d become closed-off, withdrawn all over again, and Cisco couldn't blame her for it. Caitlin really had been through a lot of shit and she deserved someone to help her through it. And it wasn’t as if Cisco had anyone else that he’d be spending time- no. Too close to the soulmark vein. He blocked out the bitterness and continued down the hall.

Eventually, he reached the doorway to the med center.

It didn’t seem as if anyone was inside so Cisco wandered in to peek behind the beds. There were a lot more beds than he had remembered, all lined up and facing each other along two long walls, sheets tucked crisply over the thin mattresses and stainless steel rails reflecting each other under the fluorescent overhead lights.

“Cisco?” Caitlin’s voice called, behind him. Surprised, he spun around, looking for the source of it and almost falling flat on his ass. “Hey,” she said again, “up here.” This time, Cisco was able to pinpoint where Caitlin’s voice was coming from and looked up to see her squatting a bit awkwardly on top of an eight-foot-tall medical cabinet. A bookshelf full of manuals and binders, as well as a bedside table, were pushed up against it. Steps up to the top of the cabinet, Cisco guessed. Looking back up at Caitlin, Cisco noticed that she was reaching for a jar of cotton balls on the cabinet beside her’s.

“You want some help with that?” he asked, awkwardly, taking an unsure step towards her.

“No,” she grunted. Her fingertips reached the jar and she prodded it a bit closer to herself with little finger movements. “Actually, would you mind grabbing this for me?” Cisco stepped up to the cabinet wordlessly.

“I’m gonna drop it," Caitlin warned. "Don’t break it.”

“Hey, I won’t!” Cisco assured her, fixing his face with a half-grin and raising his hands to show readiness. She seemed to believe him because she worked the jar to the edge of the cabinet, allowing it to teeter for a second before it plummeted down towards Cisco’s upturned face. He caught it with a quiet “Whoa!” and allowed himself to grin. “Told you!” he laughed, his relief quiet in the large room.

“Thanks for that,” Caitlin sighed, looking a little amused herself. She maneuvered into a sitting position, aligning herself with the bedside table and bookshelf she’d dragged over to the eight-foot cabinet. She didn’t seem worried about the impromptu steps but Cisco sure as hell was.

“Yo, you want me to spot you?” he offered, hopeful. She shook her head and slowly scooted off, keeping her hands planted on the top of the cabinet. The silence drew as taut as a hair-thin piano wire, ready to snap into two pieces at anything unexpected as Caitlin lowered herself onto the bookshelf. As her feet neared it, Cisco noticed that her arms were shaking minutely at the stress. Luckily, Caitlin was able to shift her weight onto the bookshelf without any calamity. Cisco relaxed a little. The step down from the bookshelf onto the table was visibly easier and, from there, Caitlin hopped onto the floor without any ceremony. Cisco set down the jar of cotton balls onto one of the bookcase shelves and heaved a quiet sigh of relief.

“You can help with these,” Caitlin said, gesturing towards the furniture composing her makeshift stairway and then stepping up to the bookshelf herself. She gripped it firmly and, accompanied by the scraping noise of the wooden bottom against the linoleum floor, heaved it towards its place against the wall. Cisco stepped forward and picked up the small bedside table, taking short steps over to the nearest bed and setting the table down beside it with a quiet grunt.

“Good?” he asked, turning to face Caitlin. She had taken off the lid of the cotton ball jar and was reaching inside of it.

“Very, thanks.” Her response was a little distracted. “Get me some hydrogen peroxide, would you?”

Cisco complied, walking over to the cabinet beneath a stainless steel sink so that he could retrieve the peroxide from its spot beside several other bottles. He might not visit the medical center much but he knew where the basics were.

“Listen, Cait…” he trailed off as he handed her the peroxide, waiting to see if she was open to talking. She probably already knew what this was going to be about, after the events of the past week. Caitlin didn’t say anything, so Cisco continued. “How are you doing?” ‘ _No, too vague,_ ’ he thought. “Right now. I know you probably can’t name anything, but… how are you feeling?”

Caitlin didn’t speak at first, instead wetting a cotton ball with some peroxide and swiping it where the back of a counter met the wall. Ah. Cleaning. That was what she had been so absorbed in. Probably a coping mechanism, if Cisco was being suspicious.

“I’m doing… I’m doing okay, Cisco.” Her voice was quiet and firm. Tired, maybe. “It’s a lot to think about. You know that. All things considered, I believe that I’m managing.”

Cisco couldn’t help but worry that she wasn’t. But he had to have faith in her. Trust. “Good,” he said. “Okay. I really care about you, so let me know-” ' _Don’t be demanding,_ ' he reminded himself, “- please if there’s anything I can do to make things easier. I know that this has to be insane. I can’t- I can’t really comprehend it. I can’t comprehend how much has gotta be weighing on your shoulders. I just want to help you deal with that. So, really, Cait. If you’re hurting in a way that I could help..." ‘ _Stop?_ ' he wondered. ' _No, that would be disrespectful to Ronnie- fuck, Ronnie, this is- FOCUS! Help stop, help fade, help alleviate, help-_ ’ “- help out with. I’m here for you,” he finished, careful.

Caitlin’s expression had relaxed a little and Cisco stopped trying to keep talking, deciding the quit while he was ahead. Thank god, what Cisco had cobbled together actually sounded a little comforting.

“Thank you, Cisco,” Caitlin said quietly. She wasn’t smiling, not technically, but the lower lines of her eyes had raised a little and her eyebrows had smoothed out. The expression was minute but it was there.

‘ _Thank. Fucking. God,_ ’ he thought, relieved. “Yeah, of course. Anytime.” He beamed at her. God, he wished he could give her Ronnie back. It felt wrong to have those two apart. They were two halves of a whole, two soulmates.

Pro-bono status: failed. Subject thought about soulmates again. But hey, he’d tried. And maybe he’d managed to help out Caitlin a little. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco checked for a soulmark in the shower that night, glancing over his shoulder to see what the mirror reflected and examining wherever the shower water washed off suds.

He didn’t find anything, of course. Just felt ashamed for looking.

In some ways, he still felt like a stupidly optimistic child, curious about the effects of puberty. ‘When am I gonna get taller? When is my voice going to get deeper? When do I get chest hair?’ His question was, ‘When do I get a soulmark?’ Problem was, with Cisco it wasn’t a matter of when. It was a matter of if.

It was just a stupid splash of color or a potentially embarrassing modification. It might just be a lime green dot on his elbow or some shit. The only important part was what it signified, and hell, he’d been doing just fine without a soulmate so far! He shouldn’t be putting as much stock in it as he did.

And yet. It kept. Fucking. Bugging him.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time that Cisco had gotten to STAR labs the next day, he had the distraction he’d been wanting. A girl that could explode at any moment, Barry going undercover, and he himself being in charge of building and utilizing the pressurized extraction gun that could diffuse the whole situation.

There was no time for worrying or anxieties or stupid childhood despairs. All that Cisco had time for was fixing the problem. He was under a time crunch and the consequences were looming. It was fucking terrifying and Cisco hated that he loved the headspace that it forced him into, but he couldn’t help it. He was in his element.

Run an analysis on the thermite, fit the bracket, comfort Lisa Snart, snarky comment here, dismiss worries, advise Barry, spin the drill bit into place, seal the storage chamber on the prototype, pump the air, comfort Lisa again, confer with Caitlin, support Barry’s undercover work with some remote tech, test the gun once, re-pump, let Barry know the situation, push past the worry, use the gun, let Barry know that the pressure was gone.

And that was that.

It was over before he knew it.

Cisco came back to himself slowly, staying for a while on the high that he’d managed to conjure up out the situation. He set down the gun on the table, sound flooding his ears as he re-focused, and Caitlin swiped it off the surface, hurrying it down to a safer location. Cisco was glad to see it go.

Lisa seemed a little stunned, her pale skin a bit paler and her carefully curled hair disheveled, but certainly not too worse for the wear. She brushed herself off, adopting an unphased expression and heading off before Cisco could offer her an Advil or something. Cisco sighed. Unsure of what else to do, he turned to his many projects and began trying his best to organize them. He got maybe an eighth of the way through the task but, to be fair, he was wiped.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time that he was ready to head out for a break, Cisco was feeling more content than he had in literal months, better than he had since before Eobard Thawne had ever become known to Team Flash. And so he stopped by at one of his favorite coffee shops. The place had nothing on CC Jitters but it made a mean hot chocolate and Cisco had no dignity. “Treat yo self,” he muttered under his breath, working an earbud into one ear and retrieving his wallet so that he could pay the cashier. At a dollar, the hot chocolate was cheaper than it had any right to be.

As he left the shop, he spotted Lisa Snart looking far more comfortable than the last time he’d seen her. She was standing at the corner, leaning against a canary yellow motorcycle and crossing her arms expectantly as she stared him down with a raised eyebrow. Apparently, she’d been waiting for him. Cisco raised an eyebrow back at her and took a cautious sip from his steaming hot chocolate, deciding not to burden his moral compass with wondering where Lisa had gotten the motorcycle from. He strolled over to her, stopping at the edge of the curb. “So, taking off?” he asked.

“I thought I’d say goodbye,” she responded, her lips curving in a smile. As soon as she said it, Lisa glanced down at the ground, as if she was struggling with shyness. Cisco may not have known her for longer than a day, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew that that was not like a Snart. When she peeked up at him through her eyelashes, he realized what was going on.

‘ _Oh, is she really playing this game?_ ’ Cisco wondered, surprised. Out loud, he said, “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t leave a bomb in anyone.” He met her gaze, continuing with a hint of humor, “Not even you.”

“It’s more than that,” she asserted, earnestly returning the eye contact. “You were there for me when I was feeling weak.”

' _Oh, she's really going all in._ '

“I hate feeling weak.” Lisa’s gaze had lowered to the collar of Cisco’s shirt. “It’s hard for me to trust people. But I trusted you.” She swallowed and then, almost shyly and far too hesitantly, said: “you might actually be my first real friend.”

That was what confirmed it. She was lying and she knew that Cisco knew it. Cisco couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face at the affirmation.

“Was any of that true?” he said out loud, after a moment of silence.

God, it was funny the way that Lisa’s fake shyness reverted to her more typical calculating expression. It was like a switch had been flipped. Her carefully-arched eyebrows, which had been raised in an effort to look sincere, lowered as her soft smile became sharper, more vicious. She was like Caitlin in that it was the most minute changes in her expression that made all the difference.

Lisa didn’t reply to Cisco’s question and instead lifted her helmet off of her motorcycle, tucking it under her arm and stepping towards him. Then, before he had the chance to register it, she was fucking _kissing_ him. It took him an embarrassingly long half-second before he remembered to kiss back. He wondered if she could taste the hot chocolate on his breath. Then, just as quickly as the kiss had begun, it stopped, leaving Cisco in a mild state of shock as Lisa directed a smirk his way and straddled her motorcycle. “‘Till next time, Cisco.”

Words finally came to him as Lisa was shaking her hair back over her shoulders. “Later, Golden Glider.”

She slid her helmet on without another word, glancing toward him as she revved up her bike and began peeling away from the curb. Cisco stood there and watched her go, smiling until she was gone and he felt like an idiot. He lifted his hot chocolate--now warm chocolate--to his lips and took another sip, glancing around surreptitiously to check if anyone had witnessed what was probably the most badass moment he’d ever had. Even without the supposedly inimitable connection that soulmates have, that had been fucking _fun_.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco ended up staying late at the lab that night.

Barry, it turned out, was being kept busy with CSI work, and he stayed too. They worked in silence: Barry using a godforsakenly ancient laptop to finish up some work and Cisco testing some limitations on a program that would let him monitor Barry’s Flash suit with more accuracy. They worked in unmoving, comfortable quietude for a long while.

Then Barry swatted Cisco’s left forearm.

Cisco, almost completely absorbed in his work, ignored it, continuing to type parameters into a stimulation.

Barry swatted his arm again, frowning in Cisco’s peripheral vision. Cisco chose the moral low road, huffing an indignant breath but otherwise not addressing him.

“New tech?” Barry finally asked, audibly curious. That was enough to get Cisco to speak.

“It’s _gonna_ be, assuming you stop interrupting the development of it.”

“Huh?”

Barry sounded so genuinely confused that Cisco actually looked up from the computer monitor. “Lemme work on it in peace The program will help us out in the field and-”

“No, not that,” Barry interrupted. “That.” Barry pointed at a spot on Cisco’s forearm, fingernail hovering over where Cisco knew he had a small scar left over from scratching a mosquito bite too indulgently. Cisco followed Barry’s line of sight and promptly fell out of his chair.

Barry caught him before he hit the floor, gripping Cisco’s wrist and pulling him a bit more upright. Cisco didn’t bother putting any effort into standing up, instead staying slumped in Barry’s grip, gaze glued to the scar on the back of his forearm.

It. Was. _Glowing_.

A bright neon glow.

Suddenly curious, Cisco lifted up the hem of his shirt, examining the skin next to his hip. Sure enough, the thin scar left from a childhood dog bite was glowing at the seams, as though there was a light inside of him trying to escape.

“Wait,” Barry said, “dude, is that your…?”

“Soulmark,” Cisco said, a little faint. He was so in awe that he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad, even though he had the sense that he should be absolutely pissed. After all, he’d spent years trying to reach some sort of mildly disinterested place, but now he had what he’d been trying to teach himself not to want and he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. “Holy shit!” he laughed. Barry lowered him onto the wheeled chair with an awkward laugh of his own.

“You good? Is this new?”

“Yeah! Hell yeah! I thought I’d never have one!” The words spilled out of Cisco’s mouth in a bubbly rush and he stuttered over three separate words but he didn’t give a shit. Fuck the dusty red and orange that high school him had hoped for. He liked this soulmark! Glowing scars? How cool was that?!

Ignoring Barry’s quiet, “Woah there!” Cisco got up from the chair and pulled his jeans off over his shoes, standing in the middle of the lab in his boxers and examining the little glowing scars scattered all over his legs. As he watched, he could see the bright glow of the scars fade from yellow, to green, to blue. Fuck. Fuck, this was awesome. Barry seemed to get over his awkwardness soon enough, because he picked Cisco's jeans up off the floor and folded them, placing them on the desk with a little smile. Obviously, Cisco’s enthusiasm was contagious as hell.

“You want to get burgers or something? To celebrate?” Barry suggested.

“I _want_ to buy and wear mesh bodysuit so that everyone can see this,” Cisco replied, letting the sentence hang in the air for a second. “But I think that burgers could maybe substitute some of that, yeah.” Barry looked immeasurably relieved.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Cisco was too busy to celebrate like he’d planned. Late the night before, Stein had suffered a sudden loss of consciousness. Diagnostics implicated unstable dark matter, meaning that it was imperative that Team Flash find him another partner ASAP. A three-hour nap on a S.T.A.R. Labs cot, memories of 2 AM burgers, thoughts of a soulmate that was out there for _him_ , and a granola bar would have to be enough to fuel Cisco’s day. After setting up an algorithm to detect a potentially compatible “firestorm person” and re-engineering Wells’ wheelchair for Stein, he’d spent the rest of the morning with Caitlin, cleaning up the med center (somehow, it had been utterly trashed overnight). He’d showed her the soulmark on his forearm and they’d shared a celebratory can of lukewarm cherry coke. (Apparently, they would have to re-stock the break room with ice cream and other traditionally celebratory foods.)

 

* * *

 

 

As it turned out, it was probably a good thing that Cisco got his soulmarks at the time that he did, because he didn’t think that he would have been able to handle what had happened the morning after Firestorm was united without it. The shock and displeasure of the experience alone were almost enough to bring him back to initial levels of happiness. Because here was Doctor Harrison Wells.

Right.

The fuck.

In front of him.

“- meet Harrison Wells,” Barry was saying, “from Earth-2.”

The man looked every inch the Harrison Wells that Cisco remembered. He looked every inch like Eobard Thawne's facade. The same tousled dark hair, the same piercing eyes, the same lines around his mouth--hell, he even wore a similar head-to-toe black ensemble. Seeing him felt like being dunked face-first in a basin full of ice water. A trip from the past, if Cisco could combine the terminology without being confusing. The bulky weapon slung over Wells’ shoulder wasn’t exactly comforting either.

“Hi,” Cisco said, quiet, hoping to fill the silence and he scanned the man for potential threats. His own arms were crossed defensively over his chest but Cisco would rather that he look defensive than leave himself completely open to E2 Wells, especially with that giant gun of his.

“Hi,” Wells responded, regarding him coolly. He sounded exactly the same as his Earth-1 counterpart.

Cisco took a deep breath and forced himself to uncross his arms a little. “So… let me get this straight,” he began, looking to Barry to make sure that he was on the right path. Barry nodded minutely, looking perturbed by the man himself, as evidenced by his somewhat pained expression. “ _You’re_ the doppelganger of the man who…” God, where was he supposed to even start? “-murdered _his_ ,” he pointed at Barry, “mom and is responsible for both Ronnie and Eddie’s deaths.”

“Yeah,” Caitlin speculated, “but he’s not even the doppelganger of the Dr. Wells that we knew, because that Dr. Wells’ body had been taken over by the Reverse Flash, who was really Eobard Thawne and Eddie’s distant relative from the future.”

‘ _Yeah_ ,’ Cisco thought, ‘ _that about encapsulates it._ ’

There was a beat of silence.

“Yeah, I didn’t follow any of that,” Wells said, in the abrupt ‘moving on’ tone that Cisco knew from his time working under Earth-1 Thawne-Wells. “I’m my own man and had nothing to do with the murder of your,” he nodded at Barry, “mother or your friend Ricky.”

“His name was Ronnie,” Caitlin said, annoyed.

“Him either.”

Wow.

So this Wells was an asshole.

Cisco opened his mouth, readying himself to remark on the man’s absolute lack of tact, but Barry spoke before he could begin.

“You tell me you have proof of your identity?”

Wells nodded and walked over to a bag that was propped up on one of Cisco’s chairs, withdrawing another bag or case of some sort. “This almost hit me when I went through the portal,” he said, holding it up.

‘ _Too bad it missed,_ ’ Cisco thought.

“Your stabilized breach downstairs connects directly to the S.T.A.R. Labs on my Earth,” Earth-2 Wells explained, oblivious to Cisco’s thoughts. He gave the bag to Caitlin, who took it between her fingers as though it had been coated in something foul.

“Technically, this could be mine, but I want to run some tests on you.” Her words were clipped. Clearly, Cisco wasn’t the only one who wasn’t a fan of this dude.

“I’ll be genetically indistinguishable from my Earth-1 counterpart. Your tests will reveal nothing.” Wells sounded bored, like he knew that she knew that he was aware of the fact that the tests were more of a formality, something that they would do more to say that they did than anything else.

“Great!” Caitlin’s voice was pumped full of false pep. “Still gotta run ‘em.”

“Be my guest.” Contrary to his words, Wells looked put-upon.

Something did not sit right about this guy, Cisco thought. He didn’t feel completely like a person. He had a weird vibe that Cisco really couldn’t explain. He seemed almost like an AI that Cisco himself had programmed but didn’t know the parameters or history of. He knew the guy, somehow, but he didn't know a thing about him. Adding to the mystery was the fact that Cisco couldn’t get a solid read on him and that his expressions told Cisco nothing, despite the fact that he’d spent years of his life with the man who was effectively one of this man’s multiverse counterparts. Weird vibe? Definitely, he decided. Suspicious? Oh yeah.

Cisco took a few steps over to Barry, leaning towards him and muttering in his ear: “Why are we even listening to him?” Earth-2 Wells could probably hear him but Cisco didn’t give a shit. At least he’d know that they weren’t completely oblivious to his tricks if it turned out that he was like Thawne. “How do we know he’s not evil, like the other guy?”

“He saved my life last night,” Barry responded under his breath. He didn’t seem entirely free of suspicion either, luckily. “The question is why?”

Wells began fidgeting with the shoulder strap of his bulky weapon.

“I’m guessing that you didn’t travel through dimensions just to meet The Flash,” Barry continued.

Wells tightened the shoulder strap with a quiet ‘schwip’ noise and looked up to meet Barry’s narrowed eyes. “That’s exactly what I did. I came here to help you, Barry, to stop your greatest enemy.”

“He already did that,” Cisco reminded. The self-importance of this Wells was astounding.

“I’m not talking about Reverse Flash,” Wells said, looking annoyed. “I’m talking about Zoom.”

Yep. There it was. Of course Earth-2 Harrison Wells had something to do with the metahuman clusterfuck that Team Flash had been dealing with.

Cisco closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.

Fuck it.

Harrison Wells was standing in front of him and Cisco himself had soulmarks. This was probably just a dream. And Cisco needed to wake the hell up.

“I see you’ve already heard of him.” Wells’ voice made Cisco re-open his eyes.

“Yeah,” Barry replied, “Zoom has been sending metahumans from your world through breaches to fight me.”

E2 Wells didn’t seem surprised by the fact. “Well, they’re the symptoms.” He took a pause to mess with his weapon’s strap again, then looked back up. “Zoom’s the plague, one that’s infected my world and now is coming for yours.”

It seemed that all Wellses, fake or not, were theatrical to the extreme.

“What do you know about Zoom?” Barry asked him.

“Everything. I created him.”

Well, that certainly did nothing to alleviate Cisco’s suspicions. He waited to hear more.

“I’m responsible for these Earth-2 metas,” Wells said, “a fact I’ve ignored for far too long, but now I’m doing something about it.” Finally tired of the shoulder strap of his weapon, he took the whole thing off, powering down the gun and putting it on Cisco’s desk before anyone could tell him to set it down somewhere else.

“Yeah, well,” Cisco said, a little smugly, “we’re batting a thousand against these breachers.” And, considering how much effort that perfect score had warranted, it was something to be proud of.

“You’re batting a thousand, Crisco?” Wells replied sourly. Cisco tensed. God, if Wells made calling him that a habit, he might actually have to murder him. “What’s your sample size? Ten? Less? Zoom is obsessed with speed. He will never allow there to be another speedster in the multiverse, and he’s gonna keep sending these metas here, one after the next, all with the same goal: to kill The Flash. Unless we stop him together.”

Cisco was beginning to get tired of this man. He seemed to think that he could show up and demand a team to serve his purposes, all while maintaining his rude behavior and looking like the Harrison Wells that was responsible for so much hurt.

“Last time we listened to a guy with your face,” Cisco finally said, “some bad things went down.”

“We lost a lot of people we cared about,” Caitlin contributed.

At those words, Wells froze for a couple moments, then attested, fervent, “Everyone loses someone they care about, Snow.” He swallowed. “The real test of character is what you do once they’re gone.”

Just as Cisco was opening his mouth to reply, he heard footsteps in the doorway, and then, moments later, gunshots. He didn’t function as fast as Barry did, not nearly, but he could have sworn that the second of panic that he felt in the moments after the gun was fired and before Barry caught the bullets lasted for an eternity. When it had passed and he had realized that Earth-2 Wells was intact, he looked to the doorway to see Joe. The man’s gun was still raised and he looked furious. Cisco found himself suddenly occupied with tamping down the surprising urge to stand as a shield between Joe and Wells.

“Joe!” Barry called to him. “Put the gun down!”

“How is he still alive?” Joe demanded, stalking over. He lowered the gun and jabbed at Wells with a finger when Barry rushed to stand between them. “How are you still alive?!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Wells said, irate as he examined his torso for any damage. “Because you missed?”

Barry grumbled something about how that wasn’t helpful and pushed Joe away towards the lab entrance. Just then, Caitlin laid a hand on Cisco’s arm, murmuring under her breath, “We know someone who can verify everything that this guy just said. Be careful.” Cisco, still uncomfortably tense, didn’t move as she left the room. Just him and Wells now.

The man looked up hopefully, having finished checking his torso for bullet holes. “I don’t suppose you have a Big Belly Burger in this universe, do you?”

Cisco sucked in a deep breath. This was too much. Soulmarks, universes, and Harrison fucking Wells. “This isn’t happening,” he sighed.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco didn’t like Earth-2 Harrison Wells. Apparently, Earth-2 Harrison Wells didn’t like him either. He’d told Cisco that they didn’t have to like each other to get rid of Zoom, though. Defeating Zoom seemed to be all that was on his mind.

The situation upset Cisco for some reason.

 

* * *

 

"Pass the screwdriver, will you?" Cisco asked, hunched over a small motor. He'd extended his hand, palm up.

Harrison, or "Harry," as Cisco had begun calling him, didn't reply or oblige. Cisco huffed, indignant, and got the tool himself, straining across the gap between his worktable and the shelf so that he could continue to hold an axel in place. "Thanks for the help," he grumbled. Harry remained silent.

A couple of minutes later, Harry got up and made for the lab entrance. Cisco, thoroughly bored, decided to see how far he could push him.

"Hey, could you grab me a soda?"

"No."

"A hot pocket then."

"No."

"I like the ones above the microwave in the break room."

Harry, who was already out the door at that point, didn't deign to respond.

 

* * *

 

 

The trend where someone fired a gun at Harry and Cisco felt like he was about to have a heart attack as soon as he found out about it persisted. When he was told about Patty shooting Wells, it had taken him a couple moments before he was able to: A) breathe, and B) register that Caitlin was telling him that the guy was alive. The relief that he felt was not something that he wanted to read into too much.

 

* * *

 

 

Naturally, Kendra, the girl that Cisco had been dating, turned out to be a reincarnation of an ancient hawk goddess without a scar to be found anywhere on her body. Go fucking figure.

Cisco gritted his teeth and moved on. He had his soulmark now, anyway, he decided. The “grand plan” would bring his soulmate to him eventually. He might as well step out of the dating game for a while.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry Wells didn’t leave Cisco’s mind.

Not when he was grocery shopping.

Not when he was building the equipment they’d need for the new metas.

And god, it was pretty damn impossible to forget him when he was throwing markers across the lab in frustration.

So, yes. Getting used to the new Wells was quite a process. One of the first things that Cisco had to learn when dealing with him was that, no matter how much he looked like Thawne’s fake Wells act, he wasn’t anything like him.

Thawne’s Harrison Wells was a suave motherfucker. He was reserved and intelligent and knew very obviously how to manipulate people. But of course, he gave off the impression that he was above ever utilizing such a low blow. No, Thawne’s Harrison Wells was a separate breed of man entirely. He was a controlled class act.

Earth-2 Harrison “Harry” Wells was different. He was all over the place. He could be quiet, sipping coffee out of a mug contentedly one moment and hurling the mug across the room the next. He was the sort of spontaneous, compulsive, heedless genius that most people were afraid of. Oh, and he was a genius, to be sure. That was a part of the problem. Harry was smart enough to know that he was smart and helpful and that his input mattered maybe a little bit more than it actually did. In his mind, however, that gave him a free pass to behave like an utter asshole. He was callous and uncaring, concerned only by selfish motives and sparing hardly anything aside from cynical comments for others. Any care or caution in his behavior was derived solely by necessity, and sometimes even that failed. Sure, maybe Cisco was being a little harsh, but he needed something to cancel out everything else.

Everything else being the essence of Harry Wells.

The way that everything seemed a little more lucid, a little more illuminated when he was around. (Even when it seemed that a structurally sound skyscraper could be built out of his skull because of how thick it was.)

The way that he wouldn’t comb his hair. (It wasn’t for lack of resources--the man just didn’t seem to care, even if it bugged Cisco to hell and back.)

The way Cisco felt as if they were two of a kind. (Even though he’d hardly met the guy and the depth of his mind was something he'd be happy not to think about.)

The actual magnetism of his movements. (He could just be sitting in front of a board, exhausted, and Cisco would find his eyes drawn to the tapping of a finger or the bob of his Adam's apple.)

The way that he could be an asshole whenever he felt like it. (Because if he could be a jerk, if he could show Cisco the worst parts of himself, then Cisco could be himself without fear and he hated how freeing that feeling was.)

See, that was the worst part.

He was so damn Harry Wells. He was an utter jerk but he had managed to get under Cisco’s skin in an annoying, agreeable way, leaving Cisco to flounder in confusion and frustration.

He couldn’t believe how much of a joke his life was.

He’d gotten his soulmark. And his life had hardly changed because of it.

Hell, even after getting a date scheduled with Kendra, whom he had suspected might be his soulmate at the time, he couldn’t stop thinking about Harry fucking Wells.

It was all one intense gift of irony, wrapped up in mockery and tied with a ribbon made of sardonicism.

 

* * *

 

 

It was when Harry had allowed an almost invisible smile at one of Cisco's quips that he realized it. Cisco was screwed. Cisco was absolutely, no-doubt-about-it, 100%, non-GMO, organically screwed. Because he'd slipped up. He'd realized that he liked Harry Wells.

Cisco quickly decided that, as long as he didn't consciously speak it aloud, he'd be fine. Nobody had to know that he was more than okay with Harry Wells. Hell, suffering quietly was practically Cisco's M.O., at this point.

 

* * *

 

 

A while later, Cisco found a hot pocket beside the metal shavings his worktable. It was one of the good ones that he'd asked Harry for a couple days ago, from on top of the microwave in the break room. Unsanitary placement and two-day delay aside, it was almost thoughtful. Almost, because Harry hadn't actually heated the thing up.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco was a man of balance. Apparently. Whenever one department of his life was seeing difficulties, another would flourish. Like right now, with Barry’s speed. Cisco's monitoring tech was pointing to it diminishing, which he couldn’t find an explanation for. On the bright side, Harry hadn't been as much of an asshole recently.

So it followed that, if one of those two departments was going to change, it was going to be a whole flip-flop situation. In this instance, the mysterious cause behind Barry’s diminishing speed was revealed and a whole new wrench was thrown in Cisco’s relationship with Harry Wells. Because here Harry was, confessing and tossing a hidden piece of tech from Barry's suit to Cisco.

Cisco caught the cold metal between his palms, looking down at it dumbfounded.

Harry had always been self-serving. Cisco had seen countless examples of it already. But this just didn’t fit with the model. This didn’t seem like him.

“You were working with Zoom!?” Barry was saying, shocked.

Cisco couldn’t talk. There was too much going on in his head. Here Harry was, freely admitting what he’d done and lifting his hands behind his head. “-not at first,” he was saying.

“We trusted you,” Barry said. Harry’s eyes flickered over to Cisco. Cisco's mouth had fallen open, just a little, and he closed it belatedly. Apparently, Harry had still caught a glimpse of his shock, because he winced and turned back to Barry, just in time to see Joe stomping towards him. He didn’t seem surprised when Joe decked him, knocking him to the ground. For a horrible moment, Cisco couldn’t talk. He couldn’t tell Joe to stop when he started hauling Harry back up. Thank God, Caitlin did it for him.

Joe didn’t punch Harry again but instead manhandled him into a position where he could keep him secured, one hand on the back of his collar, one gripping his arm. Joe looked enraged and Harry looked grim, mouth drawn into a tight line. Cisco rushed to follow them, nearly tripping over his own feet and only just remembering to set down the piece of tech that Harry had tossed him. Joe went straight for the pipeline, tossing Harry into an open cell as if he was weighed nothing, and Cisco winced when he hit the ground. God, Cisco was pissed off and he still felt sympathetic. Of all ways to be pitiful.

Cisco forced himself to turn away, to walk back towards the entrance even though he could practically feel Harry’s gaze prickling on the back of his head. He tucked a strand of hair over his ear decisively, trying to ignore it.

 

* * *

 

 

It was possible that Cisco lacked any and all willpower because he went to the pipeline that night and opened the gate. Harry, from behind the glass door, didn’t look at all surprised to see him. He’d been sitting, expression shadowed and hands clasped in his lap, but stood and stepped up to the glass upon seeing Cisco.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing that Harry said. He sounded tired.

That was a little confusing in itself. The number of times that Harry had apologized could be counted on the fingers of Cisco’s left hand, and the number of times that those apologies hadn’t been composed of sarcasm was even less.

“Good,” Cisco said simply, glossing over all of that. There was a moment of silence before Cisco spoke up again. “Were you ever trying to stop Zoom?” He bulldozed on before Harry could respond. “You weren’t, were you.”

“No, no,” Harry said, all traces of exhaustion suddenly gone from his voice. “I was trying to stop him with all I had.” Cisco was quiet, trying to decide whether or not to believe him, and Harry seemed to take it as a sign of disbelief. “Ramon-” he swallowed, “- _Cisco_ , everything that I said about addressing my mistakes, about taking the issue into my own hands and doing something about it, about stopping that madman was true.” Cisco was quiet a little longer and Harry swallowed again, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly in the shadows that the blue light of the pipeline cast. “Should you be here? Does Detective West, does Allen-”

That got Cisco to talk. “Wells-” he’d made himself use the man’s last name and, going by the grimace that appeared on Harry's face, it was just as much of a shock for Harry as it was unpleasant for Cisco, “- you aren’t one of our more high-security prisoners. I don’t exactly need the entire team to sign off on a visit to ask a few questions.” That probably wasn’t good. Mentioning that he intended to ask questions implied that, because he had the information, Harry had the upper hand. Or maybe Cisco was reading too much into things. “You’re here because you made a bad decision. I want to know why.”

Harry was quiet for a couple moments. Then, “Did you know that I have a daughter?”

“No." Harry had never liked to talk about anything even remotely private.

“Her name is Jesse. She’s one of the strongest, most intelligent, most caring people I could dream of to have in my life.”

Cisco nodded, not sure what to say in response to that.

“Zoom has her.”

Oh. _Shit_. “Zoom- so this was a hostage situation?” Cisco tried to clarify.

Harry sighed and let his forehead fall forward against the glass door, producing a gentle ‘thunk’ noise. “It still is. And I think that my participation in the negotiation is going to be deemed unsatisfactory.”

“You-” Cisco couldn’t continue. Today had certainly been full of shifting perspectives and it didn’t seem to be stopping now. “So, let me get this straight,” he said, quiet. “Essentially, you gave up your daughter-” Harry's jaw, shadowed by the blue light, clenched visibly, “-once you realized the effect on us that your actions had.”

“ _Yes_ , Cisco. I made a decision that wasn't mine to make and now I'm trying to make amends. Frankly, I brought this problem on myself.”

The words hit Cisco a lot harder than he would have liked. He lowered himself to the ground, arranging himself into a cross-legged position against the wall. What really hurt was that, in Harry’s position, Cisco wasn’t sure what he would have done differently. They were both silent for a while and Harry eventually sat down beside Cisco, against the cell wall on the other side of the glass.

“Have you told Barry any of this?” Cisco asked, breaking the silence.

“Yes. I warned him that I’d betray him for her a while back.”

“And he didn’t do anything then?”

“He didn’t realize the gravity of it.”

"So he didn't know that Zoom was in contact with you?" Cisco clarified.

"Then, I'd hardly spoken to Zoom at all, let alone neogiated with him," Harry huffed. "When I confessed, the arrangement was practically still new."

Cisco nodded, processing. "Right." Apparently, in the greater scheme of things, Harry did make sacrifices. And he owned up to when he did something truly wrong. It was certainly something new to fit into Cisco's ever-evolving idea of who Harry Wells was. He'd probably never be able to describe the enigma of him fully. Hell, he might never have the opportunity to learn enough about him to try.

"Do you know what's going to happen with all of this?" Cisco asked suddenly. "Consequence-wise?" There would be consequences, to be sure. Harry had hurt the team in more ways than just stealing a fraction of Barry's speed.

Harry nodded his head, visibly resigned. "Barry and Joe came by earlier. I asked to be sent back to my Earth. They agreed that it was best."

Cisco found that he couldn't swallow. He was frozen. After a few seconds, he managed to exhale, every movement feeling somehow rigid. Stupid thing was, the consequence made sense. The stupider thing was, Cisco, for some reason, didn't want Harry to leave. Of all people for him to somehow find a way to be into, he just had to be into this guy, Cisco thought.  

Harry was still an asshole. He was still a jerk. And he'd still made a sacrificial decision at the expense of the team and at the benefit of himself. Granted, the stakes had been high and a different decision was nigh unthinkable, but still. Still. And despite all of that, Harry had managed to become important to Cisco for reasons that he couldn't even figure out. Cisco knew that it would all be simpler if Harry would just leave, would just exit his life, and, normally, he wouldn't have an issue with letting him go. But hey, what was normal if not something to be challenged, right?

Cisco groaned and got to his feet. He stood beside the glass, refusing to look at Harry but not being able to bring himself to leave. Harry seemed to notice because he got to his feet as well, his intense gaze drawing Cisco's eyes to meet his. They looked at each other for a few moments.

"You're going to go through the stabilized breach downstairs?" Cisco asked.

Harry nodded, rolling up his sleeves and then proceeding to run his fingers through his hair so harshly that Cisco wondered if he was angry at it. "Yes." Harry's words were clipped. After a pause, he continued. "Joe is eager to get me out of this universe, if you couldn't tell. Tomorrow morning."

There was silence. Cisco's eyes had drifted to one of the man's wrists and he had frozen.

"Assuming that the breach opens easily," Harry said under his breath, as an afterthought.

Three parallel scars ran down the outside of Harry's wrist.

"Cisco?"

The scars were glowing a beautiful green, conflicting with the blue glow that illuminated the cell. As he watched, the color of the scars shifted to red.

"Ramon?"

Cisco had already slammed his palm down on the button to close the gate and, while Harry was still calling after him in confusion, he ran down the ramp and out of the area.

 

* * *

 

 

Too much. This was far too much for Cisco to manage. He could deal with a lot of shit, he really could. But this heaped on top of everything else was far too much for him to cope with.

His soulmate was Harry fucking Wells and he was being forced to acknowledge it. The Harrison Wells that he called Harry. The Harry Wells from a different goddamn universe. The Harry Wells that Cisco had been trying to stay away from because he'd felt the intensity of him from the get-go, even if he hadn't realized particularly why.

Cisco felt that he'd finally got it.

His life was just one colossal joke.

And his soulmate was Harry Wells.

Caitlin, who was still working down in the cortex, could make sure that the lights and everything were turned off for the night. Cisco didn't think he could stay in the lab. He clenched his jaw so hard that it hurt, striding out the front door to the company van that he'd driven to work that morning.

What he hated most was that he wasn't surprised. There were little other explanations for what he had been feeling. What else could have made it so embarrassingly easy to be around Harry when the guy had such a penchant for behaving like a jerk? What else could have drawn Cisco to him so quickly? What else could have made him stand out from the backdrop of Cisco's life so much?

The brisk night air felt colder than normal, frozen, making his eyes sting.

 

* * *

 

 

Harry didn't go back to his own Earth alone and Cisco wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed by that.

Barry, the moral, altruistic man that he was, was perhaps too damn forgiving and had made the decision to help Harry retrieve his daughter. As Barry explained the situation to Caitlin and Cisco, Cisco forced himself to nod along with Caitlin. Aside from his bloodshot eyes, Cisco was sure that he looked every bit as content with the decision as Caitlin, even if he was anything but.

Cisco stood with everyone else as they opened the gate to the pipeline, tensing as Harry came into view but forcing an unperturbed smile onto his face. Thank god for Harry's long-sleeved sweaters, because with the sleeves rolled down, none of his scars were visible to the team. Harry looked grimly prepared for his journey home and, if it wasn't for the gravity of the situation, Cisco would have found his expression after hearing Barry tell him that he wouldn't be heading back alone comical. Harry looked absolutely shellshocked as he stepped out of his cell, his gaze drifting over the team and settling on Cisco with a hint of confusion. Harry opened his mouth but, before he could say anything, Cisco plastered on a grin and cut over him with a maybe-a-little-too-loud, "No time! C'mon." Harry looked even more confused but he closed his mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

"Cisco," Harry asked, "what happened? When you ran off?"

The two of them were working beside each other at a supplies-laden table, packing equipment into bags and setting up technological fail-safes. Aside from Caitlin, who was absorbed in her task at the monitors, they were alone in the lab.

Cisco didn't respond, just clenched his jaw and shoved a poncho into a bag with a bit more vigor. He was in no way ready to deal with this. "Caitlin!" he called towards the monitors instead, addressing the woman by holding up a bag. Caitlin looked up, eyebrows raised. "Where do you want this?"

"That's an outdoors kit," she asked, "right?"

"Yup." Cisco patted it emphatically. The supplies inside made the drawstring bag bulge at the sides so that the stitches strained, proof of the fact that the team's planning was more impromptu than could possibly be considered rational.

"Just by the breach is fine."

Cisco nodded and slung it over his shoulder, heading towards the lab doorway and ignoring the annoyed glare that Harry shot towards his back.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco and Caitlin stood alone in the cortex. Preparations had been finished and Caitlin had asked for a moment aside with Cisco. She was hesitant, which was... typically unlike her. But here she was, shifting her weight from foot to foot in front of Cisco. Cisco could pinpoint the exact second that she made the decision to talk, when she swallowed and steeled herself.

"I need to tell you something," she said. "Before you go to Earth-2."

Cisco nodded, curious. "Go ahead."

"You remember how Patty shot Harry a while ago?"

"Yeah?" It had been quite a moment for everyone, though only Caitlin, Patty, Joe, and Jay had been there for it. And then Cisco remembered. As a doctor trying to save Harry's life, there was no way that she hadn't seen-

"Harry's scars-"

"I know," Cisco said, trying to cut her off before she could say any more. He felt as if his heart had turned to stone and dropped into his gut, weighing heavy.

"He's-"

"Jesus, Cait, I know." As they stood there in silence, Cisco closed his eyes, trying to force some calm into himself. "Thanks for..."

"Yeah." Caitlin seemed embarrassed and she made a beeline for the door.

 

* * *

 

 

So Caitlin knew.

It didn't seem that Joe had told Barry about Harry's soulmark.

But Caitlin knew.

Somehow, to Cisco, that made the situation more real.

 

* * *

 

 

After breaching to Earth-2, Cisco found that he had a somewhat easier time avoiding the topic of "about last night." Ignoring the problem never helped, sure, Cisco knew that. But considering that he had been doing an okay job of behaving normally in another dimension so far, he decided that he could stick to ignoring Harry a while longer, no matter how much it was beginning to hurt him.

 

Cisco's back hit the log with an audible 'thump' noise and he winced. Beside him, Harry was panting, messing with something on the imposing weapon that he'd brought with him to Earth-1. Turns out that gun was useful for something more than making the owner look intimidating - who knew?

From the other side of the log, Killer Frost yelled something at them and then proceeded to laugh in a way that sent chills down Cisco's spine. Because, of course, they'd have to deal with Caitlin's evil ice queen Earth-2 counterpart. As Cisco made to take a peek over the top of the log, his gaze drifted over his left forearm and he froze, breath stuttering to a stop. Harry yanked him down with a hiss, saving him from being on the returning end of a blast of ice. Cisco didn't realize the fate he'd narrowly avoiding, mounting panic dominating the forefront of his mind.

His soulmark was gone.

' _No, no, no!_ ' Cisco thought, examining his arm and trying to swallow down his fear. It was that arm. The scar was still there, but it looked entirely normal. How could the glow just be gone!?

"C'mon, Cisco!" Harry hissed again, his words interrupting Cisco's thoughts. "We're in the middle of something here!" Earth-2 Barry and Iris, who were cowering to their right, didn't seem to have a clue what was going on but nevertheless voiced their agreement.

"The glow-" Cisco's breath caught but Harry nodded before he could continue.

"What, on the scars?" Harry asked.

' _He knew!?_ '

"Yeah," Harry continued, "our scars don't glow on this Earth. Really freaked me out when I showed up at your lab for the first time and I looked like a Christmas tree. I ended up scouring your medical bay for resources the night that I showed up and couldn't find a thing on them. Now, if you don't mind-"

"They don't glow!?" Cisco had never been slow on the uptake, but he felt that his confusion was more than warranted here. "What do you mean, _they don't glow!?_ "

"Jesus Christ, Ramon," Harry growled. "Some other time, okay!?"

 

* * *

 

 

So, as it turned out, Earth-2 didn't have soulmarks.

That was a trip.

And that also meant that Harry probably didn't have a clue what his Earth-1 glowing scars meant.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco quickly found that, despite the notable difference in the existence of soulmarks between Earths, a lot of what had been bothering him on Earth-1 extended to Earth-2. He still had the godawful bond with Harry Wells-- the one that stopped him from denying to himself that anything was between them because, frankly, even on an Earth without soulmarks, there was no other explanation for it. Because the panic that he felt whenever Harry was in danger was something that couldn't be attributed to something normal. The easy security of Harry's presence extended beyond anything that Cisco knew could be normal. Hell, Harry himself seemed to extend beyond anything normal. It felt as if Cisco had been isolated in his own reality his entire life, interacting with the world through an impenetrable film, and that Harry was someone who could bypass the film and walk right through to Cisco. Cisco couldn't feel alone with Harry.

Which is what made it so hard to ignore him, to keep their shared soulmark to himself. Because Cisco was starting to crave Harry but Harry seemed as oblivious as ever. So Cisco made the sacrifice and stayed quiet.

The multiverse definitely had it out for him.

 

* * *

 

 

For a moment, Cisco managed to forget about his soulmark. It would have been difficult not to when faced with a homicidal metahuman bent on murdering everyone.

 

* * *

 

 

Cisco was back on Earth-1. Somehow, somehow their crazy plan worked. Their biggest immediate problem had gone from worrying about being killed as they snuck into a meta-madman's lair, to helping Jesse Wells acclimate to life on Earth-1. Unfortunately, as Cisco soon came to realize, though the "distraction" of fighting for his life had never exactly been welcome, he almost missed it. Because now? Now his and Harry's scars were glowing again. Whatever conversation they'd begun while fighting Killer Frost, Cisco refused to finish, becoming icy in his own right around Harry. It was easier, somehow. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he had experience ignoring the guy this time around. Or, more likely, it had to do with the fact that so much else was on Cisco's mind. Caitlin potentially becoming Killer Frost and a big-ass shark dude terrorizing Central City constituted only a little bit of what was on his plate.

   In fact, it was possible that he could have remained distant and cold forever if it hadn't been for the fact that, one day, Jesse Wells woke up with dark green lips.

   Naturally, Harry panicked and rushed into the cortex, where Cisco had been hanging out with Barry. Barry, not knowing any reason not to, immediately began telling Harry about soulmarks and Cisco quietly left the room.

   

* * *

 

 

   It was a pity that Harry wasn't an idiot. If he was, then perhaps he wouldn't have put together Barry's words and Cisco's scar freak-out back on Earth-2. Maybe Cisco would have been able to continue to torture the both of them by ignoring everything that he could.

Tragically, Harry was not an idiot and it took less than an hour for him to put it together and track Cisco down in the break room.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Cisco didn't respond, continuing to watch the Keurig machine pour coffee into his already mostly full mug.

"Cisco." Harry's tone was warning.

Cisco persisted.

"Cisco, cut it out."

"What do you want me to do then?" Cisco snapped, immediately embarrassed by his own petulance. He looked over to see that Harry had closed his eyes. Apparently, he was frustrated. ' _Wonder why_ ,' Cisco thought to himself, sarcastic.

"I want," Harry said, re-opening his eyes to meet Cisco's before Cisco could look away, "to know why you didn't say anything."

"I assumed that you knew," Cisco lied. He tore his gaze away from Harry's and stopped the coffee machine, bringing his coffee mug over to the little basket of sweeteners and creamers.

"How would I have known!?"

"I mean, I don't exactly _hide_ my bright-ass scars," Cisco defended.

Harry looked even more frustrated by that response. Before Cisco could add anything, he replied with a curt, "You don't exactly show them off, either."

"Well, I'm sorry that my wardrobe is so conservative!" For Cisco, snark had always been the default in volatile conversations.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, even if you wore a speedo to the lab, do you really think that I'd have known what the scars meant?!"

"Uhhh, yeah?" It's not like he could have known that Earth-2 didn't have soulmarks.

"I-" Harry cut himself off to take a deep breath, before continuing, slightly calmer, "I was a random man who showed up from a different universe. And your first thought was 'hey, he probably knows what the hell a soulmark is!'"

"Obviously not my first!" Cisco burst out. "And considering that this Earth has been familiar with soulmarks for centuries and centuries, I think you can forgive me for making an assumption! Hell, Harry, I didn't even know that we were soulmates until like a week ago!"

"So that was it?!"

Harry obviously expected a response, so Cisco turned back to his coffee to hide his confusion. He didn't want to have to ask Harry to elaborate, at least not out loud. He tore open a packet of sugar and dumped it into his mug.

"The night in the pipeline?" Harry obliged.

Cisco gave it another three seconds and his coffee another sugar before responding. "Yeah. I saw your wrist. What the hell gave you those scars, anyway?"

"A griddle," Harry said, dismissive. "So you saw those scars and thought what? Why were you avoiding me?"

Cisco didn't speak immediately, pouring another two sugar packets into his coffee methodically.

"C'mon, Cisco," Harry urged.

"I thought, 'well, fuck.' It made sense but I didn't like that you were my soulmate," he shrugged, blunt. "It felt like a cruel joke. You look exactly like the guy that literally killed me. Plus, you act like an utter asshole, don't know if you're aware." In the silence that followed his words, Cisco tapped a powdered creamer into his coffee.

"So you ignored me? That sounds like an asshole move to me."

"I took some time to process."

"You took some time to isolate yourself," Harry rebuked. Cisco hated that Harry was right, considering how much Harry's EQ left to be desired.

"Processing is a process," Cisco tried. "And yeah, maybe my process isn't the best, but I still don't know why you think that I was obligated to tell you that we were soulmates."

"It affects me. Do have any idea how much easier a lot of things would have been for me if I'd known that we were soulmates?! Did you really think that I was completely oblivious to the fact that there was something going on between us that I couldn't figure out?!"

Cisco opened his mouth to respond, gobsmacked at the realization that Harry had felt the effects of the soulmate bond too.

"No," Harry said before Cisco had the chance to get out any words. "That's it. End of story. Drop the mic."

Cisco took a pause before responding. "You're so right, Harry. There I was, terrified, frustrated, fully believing that the universe had it out for me. I should have taken the time to say, 'by the way, we're soulmates,' before driving home to have a good cry. Hell, I didn't even wait until I was home to start crying, I really did a lot wrong."

"That sounds like sarcasm to me."

"You know that it's sarcasm, you idiot," Cisco said, gritting his teeth and pouring another creamer into his coffee.

"Fine! Fine. That's a point. But if you were gonna pretend I didn't exist, you should have told me _why_ first!"

Cisco sighed, topping off his no-doubt sickly sweet coffee with a packet of stevia before taking a sip and making a face. He forced himself to swallow and then to dredge up what he really didn't want to think about. "Yeah, I know. It was a dick move. I wasn't thinking about you and I'm sorry about that. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Saying it seemed to make it more real and Cisco felt a new wave of guilt break inside of him, but he swallowed it down with another sip of gross coffee.  

"Yes. Thank you," Harry responded. That seemed to close the curtain on their argument.

They lapsed into silence.

"So, you don't have soulmates on your Earth?" Cisco eventually asked.

"No."

"Cool." Cisco sipped the disgusting coffee. "Cool cool cool. Barry told you the gist?"

"Yes."

"Great. That's fine." Cisco wondered it if was possible to die from a roundabout conversation.

"What now?"

Cisco took another sip of his coffee to avoid answering immediately. Disappointingly, it was still just as gross as before. A nauseated expression crossed Cisco's face and Harry took the mug from him without asking, pouring the light brown liquid down the sink drain. Cisco nodded in thanks and continued to try to think of a decent reply to Harry's question. "Whatever you're comfortable with, I guess," he finally settled on.

"What are you comfortable with?" Harry deflected.

"Nope. I quasi-asked first. If you don't want anything, just tell me. You're from a different Earth, I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't feel anything at all for me." Would he be disappointed if Harry didn't want anything? Hell yeah. But it was up to him, really. Cisco was able to admit to himself that he wouldn't mind - hell, he'd like - a relationship with Harry, so Harry would have a hard time honestly proposing something that he wouldn't be up for.

"I do," Harry said, looking like it almost pained him to say it. "And I do want something." The tips of his ears were red. "If you're okay with it."

"I'm..." Cisco pushed down a relieved smile. "I'm good with that. I'd like that." He'd like that a lot. "Any details or...?"

"I am..." Cisco wasn't actually aware that Harry was able to blush this intensely. Harry scowled and closed his eyes. "Just a romantic relationship. Like, dating. I can't detail too much of it, but..." He shrugged in a vague, 'you know what I'm saying, right?' sort of way and re-opened his eyes.

Cisco was smiling as he suggested, "It's enough to go off of, right?"

Harry nodded.  

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to matty (@stars-n-spacee on tumblr) for weathering my anguished messages about this fic and for coming up with the idea for Cisco and Harry's soulmarks!!! (matty, ur a good bro, i appreciate you.)
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and comments I get, so if you're up for it, I'd love it if you'd leave some feedback!


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